Reincarnated into Two Bodies

Chapter 249: My Favorite Class

I stood in front of my dorms’ notice boards.On them, a certain parchment was pinned, right dead center, dragging all eyes towards it.

—

—

Apparently, Nicholas was an Honors student as well, but a year higher than Ravilenna and me. 

Being demoted from that class must’ve put a dent on his gold-plated back. I briefly pondered how his expression must’ve looked when he heard the news. But hey, that’s what you get for trying to give a false report directly to a director.

Though, to be fair, the only reason the director burned the report was that it targeted me, someone who technically outranked him with my Ducal heir status. If I were anyone else, regardless of whether the report was true or not, I’d probably be the one on that board right now.

I didn’t know if I should feel happy seeing these punishments due to that, knowing this wasn’t actually real justice, just a director playing favorites with me on the favored side. I almost felt bad for them, too.

But then I remembered Nicholas and Alishia’s awesome idea to make commoners use separate washrooms outside the main building so they didn't have to share the air with them.

As I started heading to my classes, I noticed the announcement was plastered on basically every board I passed. The academy clearly wanted their names drowned in mud. Was this Director Randolph’s way of "appeasing my wrath"? Who knows.

The least I could do was enjoy the schadenfreude while it lasted. Knowing their personalities from the brief moment of “conversation” I had with them, they weren't the type to stay down for long. But at least I knew they would be in trouble next time I saw them, so I hoped I would be prepared when that time comes.

—

Classes began in earnest this morning, and I was hyped up to get some knowledge in my head.

Today was combat class, the only class on my schedule I trusted to provide anything worth learning this year. I walked in twice, once as Carine, with Lionne trailing behind like a loyal shadow, and once as Feyt, with Attila yawning loud enough to shake her own teeth. 

When I arrived, the room was already a disorganized cluster of students lounging on mats or huddled in circles. Some were talking, some were trying to steal a few extra seconds of shut-eye, and one was staring silently out the window. 

And by one, I mean one person specifically. Lecther.

Attila was still sleepy as we sat near our fellow black-collared students, so I decided not to bother her. 

Last night’s written assignments were pretty heavy, after all. I didn’t suffer too much, perks of having a comprehensive internal library inside Carine’s head, but it must’ve taken a toll on her.

As for Carine, I was chatting with Lionne about the food in the cafeteria. Apparently, a new high-class chef rolled in just today and was adding a new item to the menu, their signature dish, apparently. 

Lionne had already secured us the first servings for today, somehow. I didn't ask how she got the intel, nor did I question how she’d managed to reserve that sort of thing. Some things are better left a mystery.

Honestly, I was just glad she was back to her usual self. A gloomy Lionne is like Mother patting me on the back for a job well done.

Villius arrived right on cue, maintaining his streak of arriving just before the bell rings. He spotted me instantly, his face brightening with a smile as he navigated the crowd. 

"Lady Carine," he greeted, "it’s a fine morning for training, isn’t it?" 

I nodded. “It is.”

"Morning, Sir Villius," Lionne chimed in. "Will you be joining us at the cafeteria later? I can reserve you a seat like usual."

"Ah, that. I’m afraid I’ll have to pass," Villius said, looking genuinely pained. "My class has an assignment due today, I’m afraid."

“I didn’t take you to be the type to do your assignments at the last minute,” I remarked.

Villius let out a weary sigh. "I don’t. The instructor sent the assignment out just last night. Clarissa and I were caught… quite off guard."

“Oh…”

Then, the heavy double doors groaned open.

"Morning, all!"

Instructor Liz’s voice boomed through the hall, bright and deceptively cheerful.

The effect her presence had was instant. Conversations died in mid-sentence. Someone’s wooden practice sword clattered to the mat. We all froze, watching her as she sauntered in with that same provocative ease, her coat draped over her shoulders like last week, a complete contrast against the strict, clean look of other instructors’ uniforms.

“What a beautiful morning for a spar, huh?” she said aloud, her tone almost a hum.

The room immediately filled with groans and frantic whispers.

Me, personally? I love a direct, practical class as much as I love a warm bed, which is to say, a lot. But judging from last week’s performance… I get why they would groan.

Aside from a few standouts, like my duel with instructor Liz or Attila’s duel with a friend of hers, most of the duels lasted no longer than a few seconds.

It was less of a duel and more of a montage of wannabe knights tripping over their own feet, charging in screaming at the top of their lungs, and one even forgot which person they were supposed to be hitting… that last one was Lionne’s highlight, by the way.

As much as it pained me to say… this class really needed to learn fundamentals.

Speaking of last week’s class, though… my eyes shifted to Villius, who stood beside me at a respectful distance, and his partner at the time, Lechter, still staring out the window.

Villius had performed exactly how I expected. He used the fundamentals of the Sareid style well, gauged his opponents properly, and kept his footwork clean. For someone who only joined the Sareid crash-course training as a last-minute prep for the academy, he was proving himself surprisingly capable. 

However, despite it all, I had expected Lechter to overshadow him completely. No offense to Phil-man, but Lechter’s results in the aptitude test painted a clear picture that he was a different kind of beast. 

Though Lechter did charge in first, ignoring Villius completely, his footwork, his swordplay, they were… painfully basic. Above average, sure, but nowhere near the level his scores suggested. 

Was he just holding back? Was he in a slump? Or was there something else I was missing?

As the hushed conversations continued, the instructor made her way to the front of the class and widened her eyes.

“Oh, right.”

She began digging into her pockets. After a second of fumbling, she pulled out a crumpled piece of parchment.

"Let’s see what the higher-ups have for me today," she mumbled, loud enough for the front row to hear every word. She flattened the note against her palm and began reading with a theatrical squint. 

"'blah blah blah… Too many words!"

Without warning, she crumpled the note into a tight ball and tossed it over her shoulder. It bounced off the wall and landed perfectly on the trash bin near the door. 

"Well," she chirped, "I suppose I should reconsider the sparring idea. I’d hate to get another 'please' note." 

For a moment, relief washed over some of the students, specifically those who complained under their breath just moments ago. But that relief didn’t last long.

“Today’s topic is footwork, huh? Hmm…” She tapped her chin, appearing thoughtful for all of half a second. Then, her eyes brightened as if someone turned on a lantern above her head. "Oh, how about this? We’ll do one-on-one sparring. If I see your footwork is trash, I’ll yell at you the fight. Deal? Deal!" 

She didn’t even let the class vote on it. 

Everyone remained silent, still frozen in motion. Clearly, some of them didn’t sign up for this.

"Well? Go on then, find your sparring partners," she waved a hand dismissively. "Don’t tell me I’ll have to do it for you.”

She retreated to her desk, sank into the chair with a slight groan, and hoisted a boot onto the tabletop. 

I waited for the catch, for her to point a finger at me and demand I entertain her like last time. I flinched when she finally moved, but instead of pointing a finger, she reached into her coat and pulled out a… poetry book?

She started reading right then and there, like we didn’t exist at all.

I was a little disappointed. I had hoped she would give some personal feedback on how I would grow my technique. But perhaps I could pester her about it after class.

Now, my sparring partners.

Since this was a one-on-one fight, I could challenge myself to a spar. I could bedazzle everyone in the room with my “instant” reflexes and make them say things like “it’s like they can read each other’s minds!”

But… I didn’t think the world was ready for that yet.

So, I looked around for the next best thing. As Feyt, I nudged Attila, who sat right next to me and had just now managed to wrestle a little bit of her consciousness back from the tight grip of sleepiness.

“Hey, Attila. How about a spar?”

“Hmm…” she groaned, rubbing her eyes slightly. “Oh, Feyt… you’re up early…”

Before she could even respond properly, a shadow stretched across the mat, enveloping my own shadow easily. I looked up.

The man I once called Phil-man stood there. He wore a tight, professional smile as he looked down at me, clearly waiting for me to acknowledge his presence. 

Not wanting to leave him hanging, or rather, standing… I scrambled up from the mat. 

“Oh, hey… Good morning, Sir Villius,” I said, giving a warm, bright smile.

He offered one of his own, though one laced with more confidence than the usual smile he gave in front of Carine. “Please, just call me Villius. It is good to see you are doing well this week.”

“Same goes for you,” I replied. Then, with a bit of reluctance, I asked the obvious. “What brings you over here, then?”

He offered a slight bow coupled with a polite smile. “As a senior Sareid practitioner, I approach you today to ask for a duel, Sir Feyt.”

He extended a hand toward me. “May I have the honor of becoming your sparring partner for today?”

“Uhh,” I mumbled. 

The first thing I asked myself was: 

He had lots of good opponents to choose from. He could’ve picked Lechter, his partner last week; Carine, the one closest to him physically at the time; or, more realistically, his friends from his class… But no, the moment Instructor Liz let the reins off, he bolted straight to Feyt.

The second thing I asked myself was: